


Stealing Meet Cutes

by writeside



Series: The Broletariat [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 5 + 1, Accessibility Issues, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aromantic Characters, Gen, M/M, Trans Characters, Vandalism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8472157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeside/pseuds/writeside
Summary: Enjolras keeps meeting people in ridiculous and embarrassing ways involving some form of theft. Or, Five meet cutes Enjolras steals and one R steals from him.





	1. Stealing Cars

In some ways it starts with Enjolras stealing a Jeep.

Accidentally stealing a Jeep.  And he imminently gives it back, before it’s missed - before it’s even really stolen.

Still. Technically, Enjolras stole a Jeep and kickstarted a beautiful relationship.

***

“Okay,” Enjolras says, “Okay, I got this. Adjust the seat, adjust the mirrors, adjust the radio, start the car.” Enjolras goes to the adjust the seat, pushing it forward and up so he can reach the steering wheel.

“If you’re stealing a car for getaway you might want to move a little faster,” says a voice from the back of the car.

Enjolras shrieks, slamming his foot onto the break and starting the car as quickly as possibly. He’s shaking but his foot still manages to stomp on the gas, thrusting the car forward and nearly into a bush, only Enjolras’ instincts pulling on the wheel to avoid it.

“Okay, okay, just calm down,” says the voice from the back. “Ease up on the gas a little bit, I promise everything is going to be okay.”

“Are you reassuring me? I’m stealing a car!” Enjolras cries, looking back and trying to get a look at the voice.

“Eye’s forward!” the person cries, “Oh my god don’t crash the car you’re stealing!”

Enjolras keeps his eyes on the road even when he can hear the person moving from the trunk to the backseat.

“So, you steal cars often?” they ask.

Something in Enjolras’ brain has calmed down enough to chirp ‘man’s voice,’ but he shushes it violently and shamefully. The back-seat voice has been perfectly pleasant so far, no need to go gendering strangers unnecessarily, especially when he’s just committed vandalism and car theft.

“C’mon, don’t be like that, just because you’re a car thief doesn’t mean you have to be standoffish,” the voice says.

“What?” Enjolras whispers, lost.

“Ah, so you’re speaking to me again? You spaced out, man, completely blank, and I was talking to you. Okay, so do you have any idea where you’re going?”

“No,” Enjolras says, still a whisper. “I was just going to get away and maybe park somewhere to calm down alone? Just for a few hours. Then I was going to bring the car back, before anyone would miss it, I didn’t plan for this.”

“Dude, the keys were in the ignition and you thought the owner wouldn’t be around for a few hours?”

“Okay, so I didn’t think it through! I wasn’t expecting an unlocked car with the keys still in it, my original plan was to just run! I’m improvising!”

“Okay, that’s fine, we all make mistakes. We aren’t all stealing cars that still have people in them, but hey, you sure do have a story to tell at parties now.”

Enjolras scoffs, then slumps against the steering wheel.

“I’m not much for parties,” he admits.

“That’s fair, that’s fair,” the back-seat stranger says, “too busy stealing and kidnapping, I guess, busy life, probably.”

Enjolras can’t help a laugh. “No this is my first kidnapping, actually. And my first car theft. Not my first vandalism though.”

The backseat laughs. “Nice! Not to brag, but I’ve been known to scratch a masterpiece into a bathroom stall myself. They call me the infamous ‘B + J.’ Its a joke, but also a truth. Those are the best jokes.”

“I’ll be honestly, back-seat,” Enjolras says, the person in the back-seat chuckling at their title. “My vandalism was no joke. It was activism.”

Back-seat is laughing again. “Of course it was, you blonde revolutionary.”

“I’m not blonde,” Enjolras protests.

“Really? Huh.”

Enjolras wonders if this is a strange argument to be having with someone trapped in the car he is stealing. He doesn’t think there’s anyone he knows he can ask, and the thought settles him. When there are few points of social reference, he’s pretty sure that means he can chart his own territory.

“I’m revolting against ableism,” Enjolras announces. “This professor is refusing to make his class accessible for this friend of mine, Joly, so my roommate wrote this seven page paper on why that’s gross and illegal, but I’m not as good at writing as they are - I always sound too angry, because I am - so instead I slashed his tires. They should get him to read the letter.”

“How are slashed tires going to make him focus on anything other than his car and insurance coverage?” Back-seat finally sounds serious, intent on this conversation, instead of playful and casual like they did before.

“I glued all seven pages of the paper for his windshield.”

“Oh my god.”

Back-seat is quiet for a moment, and Enjolras revels in it.

“Okay, first of all, Oh my God. Second of all, has your roommate already sent that letter in?”

“No? I don’t think so.”

“Okay you need to stop them if they haven’t and grovel if they have, and also possibly turn yourself in or de-glue those pages. You think nobody can link an unsigned seven page paper with a signed one that is the exact same? You could have just accused your roommate of destruction of property, you think slashing tires is some petty vandalism?”

“Oh my god,” Enjolras says, a terrified feeling that he’s just locked up the best roommate he could have sinking into his chest.

“Okay, third of all,” says Back-seat, “Turn left up ahead, I live in Butterfield Hall and I have…what food do I have? Alcohol and Reese's Pieces with your name on them. Wait, shit, any allergies? Dietary restrictions? Anyway, you go. Celebratory drinks and snacks on me. It’s nice to know Joly has other people looking our for her.”

Back-seat knows Joly? Enjolras turns left.

“I never thought I would thank someone for stealing my car, luck’s pretty wild, huh?” Back-seat laughs.

 _Wild_ , Enjolras thinks.

***

In some ways it starts like this:

Joly is a short, pudgy woman, with clumpy thick hair dyed to look like fire and a clunky old cane bedazzled with flames and a vibrantly glowing personality. She clatters into the study room Enjolras has reserved with his roommate and sneezes so violently she falls into a chair. When she finishes sneezing and finds herself seated she smiles and wheels the chair over to the table Combeferre and Enjolras have begun unloading their books onto.

“Jolly good show, fellas’,” she says, hefting her backpack on the table, then finds Enjolras and grins brighter. “You must be Enjolras, I’ve heard about your name and general existence, nice to meet you.”

“Thanks,” Enjolras replies.

“Joly’s in my science class” Combeferre explains. “I invited her to study with us.”

Combeferre is an excellent roommate and person, but the explanations and social preparation Enjolras needs are not the same as Combeferre’s. Having only met each other a few days ago they haven’t had the mental illness conversation yet, but standing in a room Enjolras had categorized as ‘private, Combeferre allowed’ with a stranger barging in is all the hint Enjolras needs. He feels frozen, unable to comprehend what is happening, unsure of where he or anyone else stands.

“Sorry,” the stranger says, seeming to recognize the panic in his eyes. “I’m Joly, I use she/her pronouns, and I met Combeferre in their bio class. We’re both pre-med, we hit it off and they invited me to study with you.”

“Oh,” Enjolras says. He feels his shoulders loosening.  “Okay. I’m Enjolras, he/him. I didn’t know you were coming.”

Joly laughs at that, just around the time Enjolras is replaying his words and marking them down as ‘rude, why did you say that?’

“Hey, don’t worry, I should have made sure you were on board before barging in here. But I promise not to cause a ruckus or start a riot, so let’s try this out and see how it goes, sound good?”

It goes like this: Joly is a beautiful addition to Enjolras and Combeferre’s study group, such a great addition that they can officially call it a study group instead of roommates who hit it off too well reserving a study room to avoid becoming one with their desk chairs. Regardless, Joly makes it an official study group, and Enjolras and Combeferre love her for it. They also love her for her bubbly hatred of pastel orange, her assortment of giant hair bows, they way she sings in a southern accent for reasons she insists are necessary yet remain mysterious, and how she always manages to sneeze right when Combeferre is handing a hot cup of tea to Enjolras.

She’s very lovable, which on it’s own wouldn’t be a problem. The issue comes from outside. Joly uses a cane, makes puns about it, gently whacks anyone who forgets, and is overall as open as she can be about her physical disability. But no matter how open she is it doesn’t change the architecture of an inaccessible building or a broken elevator or a person who doesn’t think before knocking into her or knocking her cane out from under her.

“It’s not a big deal,” Joly tells her cellphone as she walks into study group one day. Enjolras has been sufficiently conditioned to recognize the phrase as signifying ‘this is a big deal,’ and so scrunches his face into several worried features and tries to catch Joly’s eye. Joly avoids his eyes, which hurts a bit because he doesn’t understand why, but is also frustrating because it’s the only way he knows how to help. He isn’t sure what eye contact would have helped, but the option is gone regardless.

Combeferre seems less lost than Enjolras, which is so common Enjolras feels redundant noticing, as if Combeferre being in the same space is enough to also imply they are less lost than Enjolras.

The less-lost Combeferre smiles sadly at Joly and says “Professor McCraw again?”

Joly flops into a chair and moans. “Yeah,” she says. “Bullshit as usual.”

“We can drop it,” Combeferre offers, which Enjolras thinks is unfair given he still hasn’t picked the topic up.

“Please,” Joly says, “Please drop it.”

Okay, Enjolras thinks. Maybe he won’t be picking it up.

“Topic change,” Joly says, “We should expand our study group.”

Combeferre is leaning forward eagerly, and Enjolras can tell they’re already ready to pull out their phone and bring in a dozen more friends.

“It might get distracting,” Enjolras bursts in. Combeferre looks at Enjolras pitifully.

“Not too many people,” Joly says, “I just wanted to invite my Boss and my R.”

“Your Are?” Enjolras says. English isn’t Joly’s first language. He sometimes forgets because she’s been speaking English fluently for so long and because she generally only makes small talk with him and he tunes out her and Combeferre’s medical talk.

“My R,” Joly chirps happily, then laughs. “Meijer!” she cries triumphantly, pulling out her phone.

Enjolras leaves that as an inside joke. “Why your boss?” he asks.

“I’m always down for more quality time with my Boss,” Joly replies.

Enjolras isn’t certain he understands, or how he feels about that.

“Maybe,” he hedges, “I guess see if they’re even interested before we make any decisions.”

Joly agrees, texting happily. Enjolras wonders how likely it is that no one will want to study with them.

Pretty unlikely. Damn.

***

“It’s not the class, it’s the lab,” Combeferre says when they get back to their and Enjolras’ dorm.

“What is? What?”  Enjolras replies.

“Joly’s issue with Professor McCrew,” Combeferre explains.

“Ah,” Enjolras says. That’s right, Joly had come into study group with an issue. “What’s the issue with the lab?”

“It’s not accessible. There’s no elevator to the second floor and we’re expected to stand for the whole hour of lab. Joly can do it, technically, but it puts her in a lot of pain every class and it’s not fair when we could have a lab on the first floor with tables we could sit at. It’s not fair and it’s not really _legal_ either.”

“Jesus,” Enjolras says. “That’s _terrible_. What can we do?”

“I’ve written a strongly worded letter,” Combeferre assures, “It’s seven pages, I didn’t want it to be too long incase it wasn’t read at all. It cites laws and school principles and offeres many reasonable suggestions. I’m certain it will help.”

Enjolras isn’t certain. So he slashes Professor McCrew’s tires and steals a car and accidentally kidnaps someone.

***

Enjolras hasn’t told Joly yet about his crime or Combeferre’s well-worded letter, and after a careful consultation with Combeferre the two agree that they really do have to tell her soon, in case Professor McCrew punishes her in any way for his slashed tires. Enjolras is fine with this plan at first - he’s willing to admit to his crime if Joly needs him to - until he remembers that this is the week Joly is bringing her boss.

“Oh, God,” Enjolras says while he and Combeferre wait for Joly and her boss. “Joly’s boss is coming today, I’m going to have to confess to a crime in front of my friend’s _boss_ , a person I’ve never met!”

“I’m sure Boss is great,” Combeferre says, “I’ve heard nothing but good things. And you could always take Joly aside to talk.”

“Oh my God,” says a voice from the just-opening doorway. “Fancy meeting you here, my lovely car thief.”

Enjolras recognizes the voice immediately.

He turns around and Joly is standing there with her boss. “Um, thank you for the Reese’s, Back-seat,” Enjolras says.

Back-seat  - Joly’s boss - laughs. Joly looks between the two of them then laughs as well.

“Enjolras is the one who stole your car?” She asks.

“Just my luck, huh?” her boss says.

Enjolras glares at Back-seat in betrayal.

“You told her?”

“Nothing about her without her,” Joly’s boss says happily, holding up Joly’s hand with their own. Joly laughs, then redirects their hands to her lips so she can kiss them. Enjolras is less certain Joly’s relationship with her boss is professional.

“We have an agreement,” she explains. “If you’re going to do something in someone else’s name you gotta let them know. You can’t decide what someone else wants.”

“Oh,” Enjolras says and blushes. “I’m sorry Joly, I never thought about it that way.”

Joly laughs again. “I forgive you.”

“Introductions are still necessary for us out-of-loopers,” Combeferre says, moving their eyes from Enjolras on to Joly’s boss. “I’m Combeferre, they/them. I live with this angry head of lettuce.”

Joly smiles and ushers her boss forward. “Bossuet,” They say. “Ve/vim/vir or they/them/their pronouns. Your angry lettuce is Enjolras, right?”

Enjolras nods. “He/him.” He clears his throat. “So, I take it you aren’t actually Joly’s boss?”

“Of course I’m her Boss!” Bossuet laughs. “Whose else would I be?”

“Oh,” Enjolras says, and wonders if he’s in a place to discuss problematic power dynamics in boss/worker relationships, wonders if it will allow them to distance themselves too much if he eases into the conversation by discussing general problematic power dynamics. He suddenly regrets the articles he hasn’t read and discussions he hasn’t been a part of, and hopes sincerely that he is capable of having this conversation.

But it’s fine. He can do this. Just open the discussion gently.

“Okay, so that’s fucked up.” - Wait no.

“Boss is short for Bossuest,” Joly explains. She smiles at him, because she is pretty great and she gets it.

And okay, Bossuet ends up being pretty great as well.


	2. Stealing Sketchbooks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras accidentally steals a sketchbook and crushes on the artist

Enjolras doesn’t see anyone or any bags around, so he picks up the sketchbook. It’s not stealing because he picks it up for the express purpose of returning it.

The problem with this is that there is no identifying information inside it, making returning it _incredibly_ difficult. Another problem is that the art is _really good_ and Enjolras would kind of like to do more than return the sketchbook to the artist, like maybe get coffee? Or chat? Maybe become friends?

Enjolras doesn’t want to dream too big, but becoming friends would be, well, _pretty great_.

“I don’t know much about art,” Enjolras tells Combeferre later that day, “But there’s something about this artist that _speaks_ to me.”

“What the fuck, Enjolras?” Combeferre asks, “Did you steal someone’s sketchbook?”

“I didn’t,” Enjolras protests, “I stole nothing, I picked this up because it looked like it was left behind. I’m _returning_ it.”

“Why does ‘returning it’ involve bringing it back to your dorm and going through it?”

Enjolras’ hand freezes where it’s flipping a page.

“Now see, that _would_ be a good point,” he allows, “If the artist wrote their name in the sketchbook. But because they didn’t I have no choice but to go through their sketchbook looking for clues.”

“It _is_ a good point and you aren’t going to suddenly be able to identify who owns that sketchbook because you’ve read all their comics and examined all their still life portraits,” Combeferre retorts.

“There are very few still lifes in here,” Enjolras corrects, “but I will allow that there are several comics and they are both revolutionary and enjoyable.”

“Of course,” Combeferre says, “Of course you found a _revolutionary_ sketchbook. Was stealing Bossuet’s car enough or are you going to get in the habit of stealing things to make friends?”

“I had no intention of stealing Bossuet’s car or friendship and whether or not the artist and I become friends is entirely up to the artist. Also, I didn’t steal the sketchbook.”

“Okay,” Combeferre says tiredly, “Okay, just don’t use any of my essays to commit crimes again, or at least warn me _first_ instead of after.”

“I’m really sorry about that, by the way,”  Enjolras says, “But no promises.” Combeferre just nods like they expected nothing better and Enjolras figures he earned that.

***

“Enjolras is trying to steal an artist,” Combeferre says at the next study group.

“Have you joined the Leverage team?” Bossuet asks, leaning forward excitedly. “If Combeferre is being Nathan, can I be Parker? I’ve always wanted to be a sexy blonde cat burglar.”

“I’ll be Eliot,” Joly offers, “I think if I grew my hair out and lifted a weight or two I’d make a pretty good bodyguard.”

“We’ll just have to find another person to date us and be our Hardison, you can’t have the Leverage triad with only two people,” Bossuet adds.

“Obviously,” Joly agrees.

“What’s Leverage?” Enjolras asks.

Bossuet and Joly begin yelling about the need to marathon a season or two but Combeferre cuts them both off with a firm but cutting “Can we go back to Enjolras’ stealing problem?”

“I don’t have a stealing problem,” Enjolras pouts.

“You stole me,” Bossuet points out.

“And you stole me some accessibility,” Joly adds in a dramatic voice. After Enjolras’ demonstrative show of displeasure Joly’s science lab had, for no given reason, moved to the first floor. Enjolras had not gloated about that when she told him and Combeferre.

“You stole my essay,” Combeferre says dryly.

“And my _heart_ ,” Bossuet announces, falling dramatically into vir girlfriend’s lap.

“Anyway,” Combeferre cuts in again, “Enjolras is trying to steal an art friend, right Enjolras?”

Joly and Bossuet shift their focus to Enjolras, who retorts “Am not.”

“Oooohhhh,” Joly and Bossuet say in unison, snapping their heads to Combeferre like this conversation is a tennis match.

Combeferre rolls their eyes. “Enjolras stole - “

“-Found and is trying to return -”

“- _stole_ someone’s sketchbook and fell in love with the artist. Now he wants to be their friend.”

“ _Platonically_ fell in love. As in I _greatly_ respect their work and want to like, get coffee with them sometimes, or maybe just like, _chit chat_ , you know? _Hang-out_ . If a friendship grew from that, you know, I _wouldn’t say no_.”

“Oooooohhh,” Joly and Bossuet say again.

“Well, do you know who the artist is? R’s an artist, he might be able to find them for you,” Joly offers.

“I don’t have much to go off,” Enjolras admits, “There’s no name in the sketchbook, just intensely queer and revolutionary drawings.”

“Queer and revolutionary drawings?” Bossuet repeats.

“Oh, Enjolras, did you go through the sketchbook?” Joly asks, sounding more like a disappointed mother than the understanding friend Enjolras thought he was talking to.

“I was looking for clues!” he defends, “I can’t return it if I can’t find out who it belongs to!”

Bossuet laughs and says “I’ll ask R if any queer and revolutionary classmates are missing a sketchbook. Where did you find it, Enjolras?”

“In the library,” Enjolras replies, “It was alone at an empty table.”

“I will include that detail as well as an emphasis on how you didn’t steal it when I relay this to R,” Joly assures him.

She sounds sarcastic, but it’s the best Enjolras can hope for.

***

Next week Joly and Bossuet come to the study group with good news, or so Joly announces as she limps into the room, leaning heavily on her cane.

“What are your good tidings?” Combeferre asks, carefully not looking at Joly’s changed stride. Enjolras follows their example.

“We found your mysterious artist,” Bossuet says, grinning, “Now we just need step two.”

“Step two is return the sketchbook,” Enjolras says.

“Step three, profit!” Joly continues, “Which in this case, is Enjolras making a new friend.” She winks at him and Enjolras wants to be embarrassed, but he’s too wrapped up in happiness that he’s somehow surrounded himself in people who will help him in his nonsensical and haphazard motions at friendship toward strangers.

Joly barrels on, “You can meet with the artist to give them their sketchbook back after their figure drawing class, they always hang out after class because they like being the last to leave a room and some people take a while to pack up their bags. Their next class is tomorrow, in the art building, room 116A. Are you free at 4:30?”

“Y-Yes, yes I am!”

“I really think you’ll like the artist,” Bossuet says happily, “R knows _all about_ them, a _close_ friend, if you know what I mean.” Bossuet is winking. Enjolras does not know what ve means.

Actually. It. It couldn’t be. Could it be _R_ ? The Joly and Bossuet’s mysterious friend and roommate whom they both speak of with the kind of unspeakably fond exasperation Enjolras mostly knows from his own feelings towards problematic leaders of important revolutions and Combeferre’s face when they wake Enjolras up from mid-day naps. Joly and Bossuet always make R out to be a deeply humorous and wildly misunderstood failure of a human who lives off cynicism and acrylic paint. “You have to give him a second chance,” Joly had insisted when she thought R might be coming to their next study session. “You have to give him _a few_ second chances.”

“He really does care!” Bossuet had insisted, “Just in his own way.”

It hadn’t sounded like a ringing endorsement at the time, but Enjolras trusts Joly and Bossuet and trusts their character judgement. That, combined with the tiredly hopeful drawings in the sketchbook are painting an image of a person Enjolras would _really_ like to get to know.

And like. Maybe be friends with.

 _R_ , Enjolras thinks, flipping through the sketchbook again. It’s a weird name, but so is Enjolras. It’s probably short for something - maybe something boringly ordinary like Ryan or Rachel. Enjolras can ask R when he meets them, that will be a nice opener. Names and pronouns, and the start to a beautiful friendship.

Tomorrow. Enjolras will meet R tomorrow.

***

It’s the day. The day of the figure drawing class. The whole class has left, there’s only one person left in the room, packing up a brand new sketchbook into a ratty and mostly duct tape backpack.

That must be them. The artist of the sketchbook. Maybe R.

Enjolras walks up, taking care to stay out of the student’s sight. He needs these precious few seconds to carefully plan their first interaction. Enjolras can’t be creepy or come off as too excited, he has to stay cool and be clearly queer and trans without coming off too strongly.

“Hi,” Enjolras breaths. Shit. That was creepy. The student turns and smiles at Enjolras.

“Hi. Do I know you?”

“No,” Enjolras says, “But I’m a fan of yours.”

Fuck.

The student laughs. “Yeah I tend to make those. Still, solid pun.”

Enjolras doesn’t understand. He laughs anyway. There’s an awkward beat where the student clearly doesn’t know what Enjolras wants and Enjolras doesn’t know how to exist.

“Okay, so. I stole your sketchbook. I didn’t! I picked it up because it was alone on a table, there weren’t any people or bags around! I picked it up so that I could return it to the owner! There was no stealing! Anyway, I had a hard time tracking down who it belonged to, so, I’m sorry I held on to it for so long, but, anyway, here’s the sketchbook that belongs to you that I didn’t steal.”

“Oh, man, I thought I’d lost that! Dude, you saved my ass, I was _not_ looking forward to redoing all this!”

“No problem,” Enjolras says, and tries to concentrate on acting like he didn’t look inside it _at all_ because he has already been awkward enough and in retrospect Combeferre is _of course_ right and that’s creepy and invasive and -  “I love your art, by the way. It’s. Good stuff.”

“Haha, thanks,” the artist says while Enjolras dies internally. “Want to get coffee some time?”

“Yeah, absolutely, I would love that. That would be incredible,” Enjolras’ traitorous mouth babbles, “I would love to be your friend, and to know you, and for you to call me your friend.”

“Haha, okay,” the artist says, “Anything else I can call you?”

“Yes,” Enjolras agrees quickly, then takes in what the person is asking and says “You can call me Enjolras.”

“Brilliant. I’m Feuilly.”


	3. Stealing Targets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras steals a vegan archer's attention and worries they have a crush on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait and also for this chapter. This chapter does mention the ace discourse a bit but doesn't get into it and is mentioned in a discussion between two characters on the aroace spectrum.

There is a free archery club on campus which Enjolras joins mostly for the pun but also to meet friends without Combeferre and/or stealing as a go-between. Both Combeferre and stealing things have made excellent platonic wingmen so far, but Enjolras feels like there’s something to be said for making friends by casually mingling during shared interests.

However, archery isn’t _actually_ an one of Enjolras’ interests. So this goes about as well as it could with such a flawed premise.

The problem is not that Enjolras doesn’t enjoy archery, because he finds that he really does, the problem is that the people who do archery are mostly people who hunt and who enjoy hunting and who are heavily involved in hunting culture.

And well. Hunting culture is a pretty. Conservative group.

Enjolras is not.

This is how he ends up stealing a club-mate’s new broadhead arrows and running for the hills, impulsively jumping into a boat and sending it rocketing away.

“Shit,” Enjolras says, “Shit shit shit,”

“You fucked that up,” the person agrees “It was kind of incredible.”

“Shit, fuck, _what_?” Enjolras replies

And that is how Enjolras accidentally kidnaps someone for the second time.

Fortunately this kidnapee seems just as distressed as Bossuet was at being kidnapped, which is not very, if at all. They sit up in the boat, laughing, and give Enjolras a friendly punch in the shoulder.

“Well that sure was exciting, huh? Sorry about kidnapping you, it was totally an accident, but what an incredible one!”

“Oh, yes,” Enjolras says, “You are the kidnapper here, of course. I was kidnapped. But all is forgiven.”

 _Smooth,_ he thinks, _they will never question who kidnapped who_.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. It would be awkward if you were mad at me because I need your help.”

“Of course. I am so willing to help you, probably, depending on what it is. Despite the fact that it was totally you who kidnapped me. Of course,” Enjolras says,

“Okay,” the person - kidnapper? - says “So first of all, nice arrows?”

“Thanks,” Enjolras says “They aren’t mine.”

“I know, I saw. That’s why I think you’re perfect for helping me.”

“Can you first explain why you’re on a boat on a river, with me and a bunch of pictures of animals?”

“Certainly,” the kidnapper replies. “Well, the targets are all animals, you know?”

“Yes,” Enjolras said, because as an archery club member, he does know this.

“Well, I heard a lot of the archers making jokes and comments about hunting and aiming at animals and joking about like, killing animals and stuff for fun, and you know, just gross stuff about killing animals.”

“Yeah okay,” Enjolras said, because as an archery club member he had certainly heard such comments as well.

“Well, I’m a vegan supporter. I had to take a stand.”

“A vegan _supporter_?”

“Yes.”

“So are you actually vegan?”

“Of course.”

“Then what makes you a vegan supporter?”

“I’m very supportive of my fellow vegans. I take great pride in this.”

“Okay,” Enjolras agreed, “So you took a stand. Against the archery club?”

“No, against the archery club’s lack of honor towards animals.”

“Lack of _honor_? What Shakespeare acting guild did you get kicked out of? And your stand involved stealing the targets?”

“More than one and I regret nothing. And that’s the first step, yes.”

“And now we’re on a canoe in the river together?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s not like, step two or anything, that’s just an incredible coincidence.”

“Okay,” Enjolras agreed. “I understand most of that, but only as individual words. Can you try again from the beginning?”

“Absolutely. You see, I’m very vegan, but I’m also very small and easily frightened. This eliminated my standard option of ‘beat them at their own game’ because playing the game is what I take issue with and I have no interest in playing, as well as some other favorite options like ‘challenge them to an arm wrestling competition and arrange for your friend to tickle them,’ or ‘take the high road and toss folded up pointed compliments at them from a tree when they walk by and hope that guilts them into changing.’ So really I didn’t have many other options than to steal the targets.”

“I’m not really following at all,” Enjolras admits, “But I support you, probably entirely.”

“Let me try again, this time with at least 50% less rambling. You see, I had matches to make with this canoe, but then I remembered that it was time for archery club. Being a part-time archery club member I thus felt compelled to attend, considering I am only part-time because I spend the other part of time forgetting when practice is. So I showed up and was shooting away like a good little Robin Hood when my moral compass forced me to take a stand. The stand involved stealing as many targets as possible, because you can’t make gross jokes about shooting animals if all you have to shoot at is circles inside circles. Perfect crime because everyone wins; there are still plenty of perfectly serviceable targets and I don’t have to listen to bullshit.”

“Incredible,” Enjolras says.

***

“High School Musical severely underestimated how queer and trans my college experience would be,” Enjolras tells his study group.

“High School Musical was about _high schoolers_ ,” Bossuet points out. “It made no predictions about college. This is uncharted territory, pals.”

“That’s my gender,” Combeferre announces, “‘Territory High School Musical never charted.’ I call dibs on it.”

“No one else can use it,” Joly cuts in, “This is a one-use-only gender, special made-to-order gender, not one of those generic genders.”

“Heaven forbid, not a _generic gender_ ,” Bossuet moans. “Can my gender be Enjolras’ overabundance of queer and trans college experiences?”

“No,” Enjolras says, “Your gender can’t be one of _my_ experiences.”

“Oh I’m sorry, are you the gender police?”

“Beep beep,” Enjolras retorts.

“Do cop cars beep?” Joly asks.

“All cars beep,” Combeferre assures her, “Even ones that maintain institutionalized racism and inequality.”

“Anyway,” Joly says, as if there is some greater topic to be discussed and they are all children for getting off it.

“Anyway what?” Bossuet asks, for once on Enjolras’ wavelength instead of Joly’s.

“Anyway, why is Enjolras’ college experience so queer? I thought there was a story involved in that.”

“Oh,” Enjolras says, “There was. I was either kidnapped by someone, or I kidnapped someone. But they’re vegan and definitely not cishet so it’s okay. We met when we both pissed off our archery team at the same time.”

“Incredible,” Combeferre says, “I always imagine you will stop finding ways to fuck up because I’m not around to watch you, and yet.”

“In my defense I regret nothing. They were pretty cool, I mean, I wouldn’t mind, you know, _friendship_ or something. If it just so happened. To come. I wouldn’t like, _say no_ , you know? I mean, it would be like ppsshhh, whatever, but, ya know, if I _have_ to have another friend then like, I dunno man.”

“Wow,” Bossuet says.

“Yeah,” Joly agrees.

Enjolras instantly fears they believe him and feels terrible. “I really want to be their friend,” he admits.

“No shit,” Bossuet agrees. 

“So how are you going to do that?” Joly asks, grinning.

“Don’t just keep kidnapping them until they realize you’re a nerd,” Combeferre says, “I know it may sound like the simplest solution but I imagine kidnapping loses the appeal after a while.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to kidnap them from,” Enjolras groans.

“Can you send them a letter?” Bossuet offers.

Enjolras looks thoughtful at that. “Maybe?” He says. “I mean, we’re on the same archery team, so probably? But I do not even know their name.”

“Well, maybe you’ll bump into them at archery and you can give them the letter then,” Joly suggests.

“No, no,” Bossuet says, “No at that point he would just talk to them, the letter would be moot.”

“I would not ‘just talk to them,’” Enjolras says, nearly offended. “I would greatly prefer to just give them a letter and go away. In fact, I’m going with the letter idea.”

“How will you get it to them?” Combeferre asks.

“Dunno,” Enjolras says, “Stick it to an arrow somewhere?”

 

He’s joking, but he also ends up doing that. 

 

The next day Enjolras sticks a letter to a target with an arrow and leaves it there all practice. Everyone notices and quietly gossips about it and by the end of practice it has been taken down, photographed, and added to the archery team’s Facebook page.

Dear Stranger,

You were in a boat, I either kidnapped you or you kidnapped me. Either way, you have stolen my attention. We shared a truly inspirational moment in that boat on the lake together and I would love to get to know you better. 

Please call me.

It is signed with Enjolras’ signature and phone number.

 

“Why did you write this?” Combeferre moans later that night when Enjolras shows them the picture on facebook.

“Feuilly thought it sounded good, said it was poetic,” Enjolras defends.

“It is,” Combeferre agrees “but it’s _too_ poetic!”

Enjolras scoffs. “What does that mean?”

“It sounds _romantic_ ,” Combeferre explains “it sounds like you’re trying to pick the ‘stranger’ up, like you got some action on a boat and want to go harder!”

“Oh my god.”

 

The next day there is a target with an arrow through it. There is a letter attached. The letter has a winky face and a phone number. This is also added to the team’s Facebook page, and the phone number is added to Enjolras’ phone as ‘Vegan Stranger.’

Enjolras only has to wait until later that night for Vegan Stranger to contact him.

**Vegan Stranger:** Okay so we both know that we didn’t get up to anything juicy on that boat, but like, dude, talk about poetry your note was truly inspired

**Vegan Stranger:** I loved it

**Vegan Stranger:** nyway, wanna get dinner some time? talk about our next move against the archery team? 

**Vegan Stranger:** ive got some big plans, if you joined me i think it could be incredible. 

**Vegan Stranger:** you have stolen my attention 

**Vegan Stranger:** xD

Enjolras shows the texts to his study group and to Feuilly, all of whom assure him his stranger is thirteen years old. As a show of good faith and acceptance, Enjolras replies similarly.

**Enjolras:** sure, how’s tomorrow?

**Enjolras:** RAWR means ‘i love u’ in dino

*******

**Vegan Stranger:** okay so heres the plan: 

**Vegan Stranger:** fake date

**Enjolras:** wtf thats a terrible plan

**Enjolras:** also i thought we were gonna discuss this over dinner?

**Vegan Stranger:** please dont be rude i am doing my best

**Vegan Stranger:** also yeah im cancelling on u

**Vegan Stranger:** bc my best does not include eating out

**Vegan Stranger:** omg thats a pun

**Enjolras:** im not sorry ur best is shit also why are you like this

**Vegan Stranger:** RUUUDDEE!! this is my best and im Doing IT!!

**Vegan Stranger:** ANyWay i need the archery team to think

**Vegan Stranger:** that what im doing 

**Vegan Stranger:** is u

**Enjolras:** is that all i am to u?

**Vegan Stranger:** bb no!!

**Vegan Stranger:** :* :* :* :* 

**Enjolras:** wtf is that

**Vegan Stranger:** its a kiss face

**Vegan Stranger:** the * is a kissy

**Enjolras:** it looks like u made a bunch of typos

**Enjolras:** or like ur face is all scrunched up from eating a lemon

**Vegan Stranger:** RUUUDE!!! </3

**Vegan Stranger:** im breaking up w/ u!!!

**Enjolras:** i ddint even agree to date u!

**Vegan Stranger:** plz do i have a G9 plan 

**Enjolras:** does it involve another boat?

**Vegan Stranger:** no the boat was a rental i don't have any other boats up my sleeve. 

**Enjolras:** Why did you even have a boat?

 **Vegan Stranger:** My friend was considering asking their girlfriend to marry them.

 **Vegan Stranger:** They’ve been kinda anxious about knowing when the right time is, so I figured I’d rent them a boat to sail down the river on, create the mood, jump start this proposition!

 **Vegan Stranger:** Sometimes you have to let fate take its course, sometimes you have to become the hand of fate.

 **Vegan Stranger:** When it comes to my friend’s and their happiness I try to be the hand as often as is possible.

 **Enjolras:** Oh. That’s actually a really cute reason

 **Vegan Stranger:** Thanks I think

 **Enjolras:** In my defense u r a stranger. But ur a good stranger i guess

 **Vegan Stranger:** Oh god, I never introduced myself to you, huh?

 **Enjolras:** No. I’ve been calling you my vegan stranger

 **Vegan Stranger:** Oh my god thats incredible. Now I don’t want to tell you my name

 **Enjolras:** I h8 u

 **Vegan Stranger:** Can I be a stranger and also ur boyfriend?

Enjolras grumbles and admits this is all very ridiculous and also that he is enjoying this and so he changes their name in his contacts and then changes the subject.

**Enjolras:** so whats step two after fake dating?

**Vegan Boyf:** profit?

**Enjolras:** i thought that was step three

**Vegan Boyf:** it is! I'm very sorry. okay so step two is kinda complicated, i need you to follow closely.

**Vegan Boyf:** okay so. since i already stole the targets once the archery team will be keeping a close eye on me. so it will be hard for me to steal them again.

**Vegan Boyf:** but if we play along with your genius message and act like we’re dating

**Vegan Boyf:** then they will assume we are working together!

**Enjolras:** we /are/ working together

**Vegan Boyf:** D O U B L EB L U F F

**Vegan Boyf:** they’ll be watching you, expecting me to ask you to steal the targets

**Vegan Boyf:** and we will play into that assumption with pointed comments made in earshot!

**Vegan Boyf:** but in reality

**Vegan Boyf:** I will be the one who steals the targets!!

**Vegan Boyf:** and while I'm running away with their targets

**Vegan Boyf:** they will all give chase leaving the targets naked and ready

**Vegan Boyf:** for YOU!

**Vegan Boyf:** who will sneak in and replace them with pictures of vegan dishes i will print off on nice paper and add target circles to. 

**Vegan Boyf:** it’s brilliant!!

**Enjolras:** yep its genius. just one question.

**Enjolras:** WHY?

**Vegan Boyf:** honestly why not?

**Enjolras:** why are you even doing this? do you really think it will do anything?

**Vegan Boyf:** no. not really. i mean, most likely everyone will go home with a funny vegan story they can tell their friends, probably now feeling secure in their dislike for vegans. 

**Enjolras:** then why do you do this shit?

**Vegan Boyf:** because it makes me feel good. makes me feel important and noticed. and it makes me feel like I'm doing something. 

**Vegan Boyf:** all my other identities, trying and failing to get respect for those would be super painful and like, being a failure vegan story isn’t fun either but like, the stakes are lower?

**Vegan Boyf:** I'm vegan because i believe in this, I'm gay and mentally ill and disabled because thats how i am. and I'm not saying that if i could choose another way to be i would chose cishet white able boded neurotypical man, but like. idk man. 

**Vegan Boyf:** my veganism is a result of my radical beliefs so failing to get respect for that doesn't feel like as big a failure. so i make big stinks and i do this weird shit because its fun and i like it and i like the attention i get from it and no one is getting hurt, not even me. 

**Enjolras:** thats a good reason.

**Vegan Boyf:** not really

**Enjolras:** its better than my reason for helping.

**Vegan Boyf:** just because you’re also petty doesn’t mean I'm not petty.

**Enjolras:** fair enough. why are you vegan?

**Vegan Boyf:** it makes me remember what I'm living for. because all life is valid and real, and all pain is valid and real, and because we can’t stop all cruelty but we can live in ways that are less cruel to those around us, and we can take less from the earth, and this is a small easy change that isn’t difficult

**Vegan Boyf:** and one day these are changes our government and structure of our country will internalize and change, if we just keep screaming that they need to and stealing their targets. 

**Enjolras:** thats beautiful. very poetic.

**Vegan Boyf:** what can i say? you’ve stolen my attention. 

**Enjolras:** RAWR

***

“I’m sorry, what’s going on?” Bossuet asks when Enjolras tries to explain his dilemna to his study group the next day.

Enjolras sighs. “I’m dating a vegan on the archery team and I think they have a crush on me,” he says again.

“Wow,” Joly says. “Okay. Just. Wow.” 

“For reference, how many vegans are on the archery team?” Bossuet asks

Enjolras shrugs. “Just the one, I think.”

“Nice. okay, so you are dating a vegan on the archery team, and they might have a crush on you?” Joly clarifies.

“Yep.”

“This is the best thing to ever happen to me,” Bossuet announces.

“Can you be quieter about taking pleasure in my roommate’s pain and drama?” Combeferre asks from where they are surrounded by open books at the table. Enjolras knows they aren’t really bothered because he knows Combeferre isn’t actually studying. When Combeferre actually studies they do so one book at a time to avoid getting overwhelmed.

“Is it Grantaire?” Enjolras asks. “Am I dating the fabled Grantaire?”

“Oh my god,” Joly says. “What?”

“You’re acting like you know my fake boyfriend. Are they Grantaire?”

“Do you…do you _not_ know your boyfriend?”

“I don’t know their name or pronouns,” Enjolras admits. “We kind of never introduced ourselves.”

“Incredible,” Joly insists. “Knowing you is the only Netflix subscription I need.”

 

**Vegan Boyf:** do u know a joly?

**Enjolras:** yes tell her to fuck off

**Enjolras:** Also, r u r?

**Vegan Boyf:** haha holy shit Iv never been asked that

**Enjolras:** That doesn’t answer my question

**Vegan Boyf:** haha I’m telling joly about this

**Enjolras:** ok but ur dead 2 me

***

“You seemed pretty upset about that vegan having a crush on you,” Combeferre says when they and Enjolras are back in their room. 

Enjolras grimaces. “When you say it like that it sounds like it’s the vegan part that’s setting me off.”

Combeferre laughs “Sorry, sorry. So, what part is it that’s putting you off?”

“The romo part. I just, I’m not a big fan of ‘Romance’ or that kind of bullshit,” Enjolras explains. 

Combeferre nods. “You aromantic?”

“Um. Yeah, actually. I didn’t think you’d know the word.”

Combeferre huffs a tiny laugh but it doesn’t sound super happy. “I mean. It’s gotten a bit of attention lately. It’s hard not to know the term.”

“Oh, really?” Enjolras asks, leaning forward and looking thrilled. “I’m so glad. I used to feel so invisible, I never came out to anyone because they had never heard of me and it was just so exhausting for even other queer people to start saying everything they told others to never say, it was just such bullshit I got so tired!”

“Oh, man, I’m so sorry. It hasn’t been positive attention, it’s all discussion on whether aces and aros belong in the queer community. Just some gatekeeping mess. But that doesn’t matter right now. I’m glad you told me.”

“Oh. Oh. That’s, that’s _bullshit_.”

“I know, trust me, I know. It’s harmful and it’s bullshit. But right now we’re talking about your vegan boyfriend.”

Enjolras flinches. “Yeah. That.”

"Is it the crush that bothers you?"

“I mean, I don’t care if people crush on me, but I feel bad that they’re my friend and I want them to stay my friend and I’m gonna hurt them. I feel guilty, you know?”

Combeferre purses their lips. “You aren’t leading them on,” they say.

“I kinda am though. If they’re flirting with me and I'm friendly, that’s leading them on.”

“No, that’s being friendly. You’re allowed to have friends, even allo friends who have crushes on you. Anyone who thinks friendliness is an open invitation is wrong and gross. You would never tell someone moaning about being ‘friendzoned’ they were in the right, why is that different because you’re asexual or aromantic?”

“Asexual _and_ aromantic,” Enjolras corrects.

“Nice.”

“Thanks. Also, thanks for the validation thing. That was also nice.”

“Thanks.”

There’s a beat, then Enjolras says “I think I’m gonna come out to them, though. Not because I owe it to them, because I don’t, but because I really want to be their friend and I don’t want to have to worry about them crushing on me if we’re gonna be friends.” 

“That’s totally valid. I wish you all the best in this budding friendship.”

*******

**Enjolras:** I consider you a friend, vegan boyf

**Vegan Boyf:** oh.

**Vegan Boyf:** wow. Um.

**Vegan Boyf:** Its courfeyrac

 **Enjolras:** What?

 **Vegan Boyf:** My name. Its courfeyrac. He/him pronouns. or they/them, you can use either, or both, gender’s weird, you know? Mine’s under construction.

 **Enjolras:** Yeah I know how that is. God bless tho, I knew you weren’t cishet.

 **Vegan Boyf:** Did fake dating you give me away?

 **Enjolras:** No the hair did

 **Vegan Boyf:** Fuck off

 **Enjolras:** I’m enjolras, he/him

 **Vegan Boyf:** Yeah I know, ur not like, subtle babe.

**Vegan Boyf:** Also thanks. I’m glad we’re friends, Enjolras.

 

The next day is the day of the switch. Enjolras corners Courfeyrac as soon as he sees them, hoping to get his confession out of the way before their plan. 

“Courfeyrac I need to talk to you,” Enjolras says.

“It’s pronounced ‘Courfeyrac,” they say.

“Oh. Sorry, Courfeyrac.” Enjolras says

“Courfeyrac,” Courfeyrac corrects

“Courfeyrac,” Enjolras tries.

Courfeyrac smiles. “Much better.”

“Thanks, Courfeyrac. Also, I really like you,” Enjolras says.

“Oh god,” Courfeyrac whimpers. “Oh my god.”

“And I’ve loved this time together, getting to know you and grow closer to you,” Enjolras plows on.

“Oh my fucking god,” Courfeyrac moans. “Oh dear fucking god.”

“Please stop sounding like you’re dying this is hard enough,” Enjolras says.

“Just stop then,” Courfeyrac begs.

“No,” Enjolras says valiantly. “This has to be done. Courfeyrac, I care about you greatly and I really value the time we’ve spent getting to know each other, but I’m aromantic.”

“I’m so sorry, but - Wait, what?”

Enjolras swallows. “Aromantic. I don’t experience romantic attraction. I’m also ace - asexual. I don’t experience sexual attraction. I really like you, but I can’t return your romantic feelings. I hope we can still be friends.”

“I don’t have any romantic feelings!” Courfeyrac cries, “I’m _also_ aro as fuck! I join this club for the pun! And I would _love_ to be your friend.”

“Oh my god,” Enjolras says. “Incredible.”

“Anyway,” Courfeyrac says, “You ready?”

Enjolras grins. “I was born ready.”

“Nice. Move out!”

They move out. 

Enjolras and his boyfriend are kicked out of archery club but they aren’t kicked off the Facebook page. This is how they know their pictures of vegan dishes are kept as the new targets, most likely due to the team budget being small or the team liking to shoot at vegan things, but it makes Enjolras’ vegan boyfriend happy regardless, and they send Enjolras screenshots of the archery club’s pictures nearly constantly. 

It's a the start of a pretty legendary friendship. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the record i am an aroace vegan archer. my former statement of apologies for this chapter stands.


	4. Stealing Fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras makes friends with Eponine and steals her boxing partner's fights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> binding is the act of flattening breasts to give the appearance of a flat chest.  
> passing is when a trans person is read as their gender.  
> stealth is when people don't know a trans person is trans (bc they pass as their gender)

Enjolras starts working out in his college’s gym because he likes how his body looks and imagines he will like it more if he added muscles, and also that he will feel healthier and be more capable. It’s the same reason he started testosterone and the same reason he intends to one day get top and maybe bottom surgery. Because he likes his body but he can see an obtainable way to like it more, and because it will help him to function healthier. 

He does not intend to make a workout buddy, mostly because he is feeling pretty content with the size of his friend group already but also because he’s feels a little out of place at the gym and would rather work out alone and not be bothered. 

Eponine does not get this memo. 

“Hey. Hey. That’s my spot.”

Enjolras looks around him. “I’m literally a tiny boy in the corner of the gym. Can you just let me hide in this corner?” he asks.

“No,” Eponine says, “It’s my corner, I need to hide in it.”

“Can we share the corner?” Enjolras offers. “I don’t really feel up to hoping another corner is open and it’s my first day working out so I can’t brave the middle-ground.”

Eponine laughs at that. “Okay,” she says. “We can be workout buddies whenever my boxing partner isn’t around. I’m Eponine, you?”

“Enjolras.”

***

“Please,” Enjolras begs Courfeyrac.“Please become my workout buddy. Eponine scares me but I can’t leave the corners without a buddy.”

“I’m not really interested,” Courfeyrac says apologetically. “I just don’t have the energy to work out semi-regularly. Also, knowing myself, I would probably turn it into a body image thing and no one needs that.”

“Fair enough,” Enjolras says, and then, because it’s true and he thinks it’s not out of place, “I’m glad you’re prioritizing self care.”

Courfeyrac smiles. “Thanks, E. I’m glad as well.”

***

Enjolras and Eponine end up semi-official work out buddies, mostly on account of both being too stubborn to leave the corner to the other, but also on account of actually getting along pretty well. Eponine knows actual things about working out and doesn’t mind sharing her routines and reasoning with Enjolras. Meanwhile, Enjolras provides a natural fountain of compliments on everything Eponine does, something she finds herself growing happily used to.

“I keep meeting up with you instead of my boxing partner, he’s starting to joke you’re stealing his fights,” Eponine jokes one day.

“I’m not stealing anything!” Enjolras insists. Eponine laughs.

***

“It’s weird,” Enjolras says one day. He and Combeferre were lounging around their room, not talking, when Enjolras burst out with that, which leaves Combeferre few clues for how to reply. Combeferre, like a champ, replies anyway.

“What’s weird?” they ask.

“Eponine. Working out with her.”

“What’s weird about it?”

Enjolras shrugs. “ _Passing_ , I guess. I didn’t pass in high school, you know? Because it was a tiny high school, everyone had known me for years before I came out. So passing wasn’t really a _thing_. But now I have people in my life who have only ever known me as male, I’m _stealth_ with Ep, who I work out with! I don’t bind while working out, I just wear a few sports bras. And she doesn’t question it! She just sees me as, ya know, _male_. My classmates know something is up because I forgot to email teachers my preferred name and pronouns before class and there were a few mixups -“

“Which I have already heard about,” Combeferre cuts in.

“Which I have already ranted about multiple times,” Enjolras allows. “Anyway, I’ve never been stealth before. It’s weird.”

“I’ve never been stealth so I can’t really give you advice,” Combeferre says with a smile.

“Oh, sorry,” Enjolras says. “Is this insensitive to talk about?”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Combeferre says. “I know I’ll never pass, let alone _stealth_ , I mean, I am non binary. How do you pass or stealth for non binary? But I don’t really want to. I like surprising people. I know that’s a privilege”

“I dunno, are feelings a privilege?” Enjolras asks.

“I just told you mine are, and they’re mine,” Combeferre insists. “Privilege is a lot more complicated than ‘check this box; yes or no.’ Being non binary is not a privilege, and dysphoria isn’t a requirement, but I identify my lack of social dysphoria as a privilege because that’s how I see it impacting my life.”

“Fair enough.” Enjolras says, and goes quiet again. After two months of living with Enjolras and his out of blue conversation starts and ends Combeferre recognizes that as the end of conversation it is and goes back to their laptop.

***

A few weeks later Eponine comes to work out with Enjolras obviously distressed. This isn’t abnormal as many things seem to piss Eponine off from a routine not feeling right to someone looking too long at their corner. Enjolras asks what’s wrong anyway, because he is leaning into his role of moral support and because Eponine is something like a friend now.

“It’s my boxing partner, he’s getting on my ass. I’m doing my best with his like, gender, you know?”

“Oh,” Enjolras says, feeling elated, “Your boxing partner is a trans boy? Or non binary? Or questioning? Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume, are they - is he okay with you telling me?”

“Sure,” Eponine says, “He hasn’t said anything about keeping it secret. He - oh, I guess she - is a, um, a girl? He’s a boy, but he’s trying to become a girl.”

“Oh.” Enjolras says. “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah,” Eponine says, “I’m sure it sucks to be transgendered or whatever but, like, I’m trying and also it’s just not related to boxing, which is what we do together, so I just don’t see the point in bringing it up.”

“I mean,” Enjolras says, “It’s not like she stops being a girl because you’re boxing, she can’t leave that behind to fight and shouldn’t have to.”

“I get that,” Eponine says.

“I don’t think you do. Being trans is something you are always asked to leave behind and it _sucks_."

“Yeah okay, but I’m his friend.”

“Her friend. And if you want to be her friend you have to respect who she is. I mean, you’re a girl, right?”

“Of course.”

“So if I used he/him pronouns for you, was like ‘that’s Ep, he’s cool’ would you be upset about that?”

Eponine thinks about it. “No?” she says.

“What if I called you a boy?”

Eponine gives it another thought. “Still wouldn’t be too upset.”

“Okay,” Enjolras says, wondering where all his online advice went wrong. “Imagine you are a still the same girl you are right now, but everyone thinks you are a boy. Your whole life people have called you a boy, everyone refuses to see you as a girl, they just keep calling you a boy.”

“Okay,” Eponine says, and looks thoughtful. “Yeah,” she finally says, “I still wouldn’t be too upset. That sounds fine.”

Enjolras doesn’t really know what to do with that.

“Okay,” he says, “I guess that’s whatever. But it matters to your boxing partner so you have to respect her.”

“I can see it matters to you,” Eponine said, “But he’s always been super chill, until now.”

“Well that’s her choice and whether she’s actually chill or just sick of correcting you isn’t mine to judge, but respecting people’s genders and pronouns is something I need from those around me.”

“I can respect you,” Eponine insisted.

“Not without also respecting your partner. Look, how about you practice with me. We’ll talk about your boxing partner and I’ll correct you when you use incorrect pronouns and eventually you’ll get better and not misgendering her.”

Eponine quirks an embarrassed smile. “Stealing his - sorry, _her_ \- fights again?”

***

Feuilly is using ze/hir pronouns when Enjolras meets up with hir for their weekly coffee chat. Enjolras had offered Feuilly a spot in their growing study group but ze turned it down politely and asked to meet Enjolras for coffee once a week instead. While Enjolras had first taken this as a gentle ‘you’re coming off too strong,’ it didn’t take many weeks of coffee dates for Enjolras to realize that Feuilly is actually just a shy bean sprout with far too many commitments. Ze was unable to commit to multiple days a week of studying with people who share no classes with hir and equally unable to enter a room filled with strangers who are all already friends.

“How’s art?” Enjolras asks when Feuilly sits down.

“Fine. How are politics?” ze replies.

“Shit,” Enjolras says. Feuilly laughs.

“Aren’t you also working out now?”

Enjolras laughs desperately. “Remember when I met Courfeyrac and was complaining that everyone I meet is trans?”

Feuilly smiles. “And I told you I’m gender fluid and you screamed and apologized like twelve times.”

“Good times.”

Feuilly laughs. “I take it your workout partner is trans?”

Enjolras shakes his head. “No, her boxing partner is. She’s been misgendering her this whole time and now I’m her, like, trans tutor or something.”

Feuilly whistles. “Well. You really can’t just blend with some cishets, huh? How did your workout buddy take it when she realized you’re a trans boy?”

Enjolras frowns. “I haven’t told her.”

“You signed up to be her trans tutor without coming out? Impressive.”

Enjolras frowns harder. “I don’t have to come out to help her learn pronouns.”

“Of course not. You know I didn’t mean that. I’m just saying. Impressive.”

***

“Combeferre do you think it’s wrong to practice pronouns with Ep without coming out to her? I can’t just say it didn’t come up. She'll be upset I didn't tell her. And I know that's not on me, it's on her thinking trans people owe their coming out to her, but I've never had a problem coming out to anyone before! And I never thought I’d be someone who went stealth but! But being stealth feels _really good_ , like _god damn_! But is it lazy of me as an activist to use my passing privilege in this instance? Is this even a moral issue or am I just feeling judged because Feuilly sounded a little judgmental? I just want Feuilly to be proud of me, Combeferre. I just want to do what’s right. What do you think?”

Combeferre rolls over in their sleep.

***

“Okay!” Enjolras says excitedly on his first day of being Eponine’s trans tutor. “We’re gonna start with using random pronouns on inanimate objects and work our way up to making up characters with randomly selected pronouns and names and then just talk about your partner for a while practicing using her pronouns.”

“This is dumb,” Eponine says. “Also stop calling him my partner, it’s weird.”

“Stop calling _her_ your partner, and you agreed to do this!”

Eponine huffed. “I’m trying to get better at respecting my boxing partner, not my boxes! I don’t want to ‘work my way up’ I just want to get better so things can smooth out between us.”

“Things will smooth over once you’ve gotten a little more pronoun practice in,” Enjolras insists. 

“I mean, I don’t see why it super matters to her. I’ll use her pronouns in front of her, she’ll never hear me fucking up or whatever, no issue.”

“You still call me he/him and a boy when I’m not around,” Enjolras says.

“That’s different. That’s just who you are.”

“That’s who _she_ is! Trans people are still people just _being people!_ Eponine! You know I’m a trans boy, right?”

“Oh,” Eponine says. “Jesus! _No_ , I clearly _didn’t_ know? How long were you going to let me make an ass of myself?”

“I dunno Ep, but making an ass of yourself is kinda on you!”

“Ease off my ass! Jesus, fucking! God!”

Eponine storms out.

***

Enjolras explains the situation with Eponine and her boxing partner to his study group when they meet the next day. Combeferre, who has already heard about this multiple times, remains quite, while Joly and Bossuet make interested noises to show they are still listening. After twenty minutes of Enjolras ranting Joly pulls out her bio homework to work on, but continues to make affirming listening noises so Enjolras continues ranting. When he reaches the thirty minute mark Bossuet finally cuts in.

“She’s feeling embarrassed,” Bossuet says, “you embarrassed her.”

“I don’t think that’s on me.”

“It’s not, I’m not trying to say that,” Bossuet defends.

“You just said _I_ embarrassed her, that puts the blame on me,” Enjolras retorts.

“Okay fair. I guess I did say that. I take some of it back. I just think it’s important to see her side because you offered to help educate her and she’s your friend and her biggest sin is being uneducated. Your self care comes first always, but I mean you came into this knowing she was uneducated. How mad can you be at her for messing up?”

Joly smiles at him. “You want to protect everyone and that’s beautiful. I’m glad you’re protecting yourself as well. Can you try to protect Eponine to? Messing up doesn’t make someone unforgivable.”

“I know,” Enjolras admits. “I just want to be angry for a bit.”

“Be angry,” Combeferre says, “God knows none of us can stop you. But don’t do or say anything you’ll regret once you’ve calmed down.”

Enjolras grumbles and texts Eponine.

 

 **Enjolras:** I’m sorry for embarrassing you.

 **Enjolras:** I’m still angry at you, btw. But i’ll stop soon and be sorry and give you the apology you deserve.

 **Eponine:** I’m also still angry but i think soon i'll be able to recognize it's mostly just hurt and, yeah, embarrassed. 

 **Eponine:** But I’ll be sorry soon as well. And I’ll apologize then.

***

Eponine is late to their next workout but when she shows up someone else is in tow. They are tall and muscular and Enjolras almost feels afraid until he sees their grin and how Eponine is giving them a friendly punch.

“Hey! You’re the bastard that’s been stealing my fights, aren’t you?” The grinning person says.

“Um,” Enjolras replies.

“Enjolras?” The person asks.

“That’s me,” Enjolras says.

“Pleasure to meet you is both of ours because we’re both great, Enjolras. I’m the great Bahorel. She/her pronouns, but I hear you’ve heard that already, huh?”

Enjolras grins sheepishly. “Yeah, I heard that once or twice. Nice to meet you, Bahorel. You have some great friends.”

It’s the start of another great friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dedicated to my good pal rj for encouraging me, literally wrote most of this bc i thrive off attention. also dedicated to my good pal kt in apology bc they offered to edit this and i have yet to send them a single chapter before just posting my shit.


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